The city never really sleeps, it just trades one set of demons for another when the sun dips below the horizon. Max Hastings knew this better than most. He watched from his office window as the neon signs flickered to life, painting the streets in a gaudy, synthetic glow. The fog rolled in, thick and unrelenting, swallowing the night whole.
Elena was still recuperating, but the fire in her eyes hadn't dimmed. She sat across from Max, her leg propped up on a chair, bandaged but functional. The scars, both physical and emotional, had only deepened her resolve.
Max turned from the window, a cigarette dangling from his lips. "We need to hit them where it hurts, Elena. Bennett's arrest was just the beginning. The real power behind the curtain is still out there."
Elena nodded, her gaze steely. "Luca's intel has led us this far. But if we're going to dismantle this whole operation, we need more than just breadcrumbs."
